The Reality of ‘New Girl’: Not as Cute as Zooey Deschanel Would Have You Think

I don’t like Zooey Deschanel. Her “Manic Pixie Dream Girl” attitude knows how to wear on my every nerve. That’s why I was so surprised with how much I love New Girl. A Zooey Deschanel-based sitcom on FOX that heavily relies on sexist stereotypes? It’s everything I should hate, yet the show has a certain innocent charm that brings me back to my Hulu queue ever week anxiously refreshing the page until the latest episode is finally available.

My love for the show and my suspended hatred for the lead actress could have something to do with the fact the series premiere perfectly coincided with finding myself in my own New Girl situation — one girl begins living with three males in an apartment that’s way too expensive for them to afford, shenanigans ensue. I mean, we even have our own token ethnic guy! (Though ours is a studious Asian instead of a black basketball player.)

While I love my roommates to death, I can’t help but think that New Girl set me up with a false expectation of apartment harmony. My boys don’t secretly love watching Dirty Dancing or care enough about my unstable emotions and love problems to get off the couch — let alone ditch an awesome party — to provide support. Hell, sometimes they’ve even forgotten to invite me to the bar when I’m sitting right in front of them.

It’s not that they don’t care — it’s that they’re 21. They only care to the extent that it directly affects them which, sadly, is how most college kids feel. My roommates can get very protective of me and even before we lived together, they judged guys I was with quite harshly. While it’s sweet, I secretly think they do even this just to avoid a guy hurting me, thus forcing them to hear about my feelings or worse yet — accidentally making me cry (this can be brought on by a variety of things including playing an ex’s favorite song or a dedication to a deceased crew member at the end of an episode of Supernatural. Or Air Bud).

But the worst part of the New Girl living situation isn’t the guys I live with — it’s every other guy I meet. When you first meet someone, having to tell them that you live with three guys always sparks a curious-verging-on-worried look. But when you actually introduce them to your roommates and the guy discovers that — unlike how they had hoped — your roommates aren’t fat, they aren’t acne-ridden Mountain Dew: Code Red drinking gamers, they aren’t even pretentious hipsters. No. My roommates are attractive.

It doesn’t help that one of my roommates and I like to engage in what we call “pithy banter” (though after a couple rounds of shots this usually dissolves into screaming and arm-waving). This “chemistry” my roommmate and I have automatically initiates questioning from the new guy surrounding the nature and history of our relationship. Not one to lie, I always admit I had the briefest summer fling (if you could even call it that) with the pithy banter fellow two years ago. This is the tipping point that usually separates the secure, trusting men from the insecure, emotionally immature boys. When the former learns this news, I’m met with praise for how cool it is that we don’t let our past get in the way of our friendship and living situation. Unfortunately, most college boys tend to be the latter, which means I’m met with incessant interrogation: How many times did it happen? When was the last time? Has he ever cheated on his girlfriend with you?

These questions are enough to drive a girl to Zooey Deschanel levels of frustration. Only these questions don’t have the redeeming charm of New Girl to save it from total suckage. The only thing I’ve found worse than an insecure guy learning of my living situation is a bi guy, whose constant remarks asking about my chemistry or possible romantic entanglements with my roommates isn’t done so in a fearful way, but almost in a lusty way — making me worry that if he were to pick two of our housemates to have a threesome with, I’d be one of the neglected.

So long story short, living the New Girl lifestyle definitely has its perks (especially for my roommate who plays the Schmidt role in our apartment. He just gets to act adorably clueless and hook up with all my friends), but in all honesty, it’s no happy little sitcom. I just hope that the Jess/Nick storyline doesn’t develop any further while I’m still living here, because I’m sure it will do nothing but increase the insecurities of any potential suitors to a point beyond repair.

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